


Flowers in the Grass

by SkyLeaf



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Duty, F/M, Fluff, Haircuts, Post-Breath of the Wild, Trust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 17:44:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19835344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkyLeaf/pseuds/SkyLeaf
Summary: She had done it. She had succeeded, fought against Calamity Ganon and won. But even though she had done all that, Zelda still could not quite escape the feeling of something heavy sitting on top of her, limiting her ability to enjoy the freedom she had gained.





	Flowers in the Grass

**Author's Note:**

> After seeing the little video of the sequel to Breath of the Wild, I simply could not resist writing something about how Zelda got her new hairstyle, and when I saw that the prompt for the second day of Zelink Week was "Life in the wild", well, I just had to write this!

Zelda was grateful for how life following the battle against Ganon did not leave her with much time to herself. If she had been able to sit down, to truly think about what had happened, she was sure that she would not have been able to continue and pretend that everything was fine, but with how the kingdom was still plagued by the monsters that always seemed to only be a few metres away, ready to attack them, even though they had defeated Ganon, Zelda and Link still found themselves having to travel through the land on their horses, careful not to alert any nearby monsters. With the way they spent the days in almost complete silence before sitting down around the hastily constructed campfire at night, it was no wonder that Zelda was able to at least pretend that all was fine for the first couple of weeks. However, the second she felt how the pretence slipped away, there was also no energy left to keep up the façade.

That was how Zelda found herself sitting next to Link, resting against a tree trunk in the middle of Faron province. They had been supposed to have arrived in Lurelin Village days ago, but due to a combination of monster attacks, storms, and sheer bad luck, they were still stuck there, in the middle of the jungle. Over the last few days, Zelda had been able to witness how the crease between Link’s brows slowly grew deeper each time he would have to admit defeat, telling her that it was time to rest for the night, and she could understand it. With how the trees towered up around them, making it so that only a few, scattered rays of sunlight were able to reach the ground, the Lizalfos being able to use the green colour of the ground to their advantage, and with the sides of the cliffs making it so that they often found themselves travelling along a road that was cornered by tall rocks on both sides, the journey through the Faron province was without a doubt the most dangerous part of their journey. But still, when she finally found herself unable to stay silent and pretend that she was fine, Zelda was glad that they had yet to arrive in Lurelin Village. At least now, Link was the only person present to witness how the former princess of Hyrule let go of the apple he had given her only moments before, the fruit hitting the grass next to her with a soft thud as she began to cry.

In an instant, Link had moved over, his own dinner left on the ground, seemingly forgotten, as he put an arm around her. “Zelda, what is wrong?” he asked.

Perhaps it was due to how they had spent the last few weeks travelling in almost total silence, or the way the sound of the birds and insect around them still echoed around her, but right then, Zelda would have given almost everything to simply be able to stay there and simply allow herself to listen to his voice, closing her eyes for a second.

Next to her, Link continued. “Is there anything I can do to help you? Does the wound still hurt?” already before she turned her head to look at him, Zelda knew how he was glancing towards the spot on her calf where a Bokoblin had managed to move close enough to her to be able to hit her with its sword before she had been able to spot it and defend herself.

“No.” Zelda shook her head. The cut had stung for the first few days after she had received it, but the combination of elixirs and Link insisting that they had to be careful to ensure that they would always have enough clean cloth to allow her to change the makeshift bandage they had wrapped around the wound twice a day seemed to have saved her from having to suffer any serious consequences from the injury. “No, it is not about my leg. I, uh…” she let the sentence trail off. At once, it appeared so incredibly silly to admit the truth about her feelings, to tell Link that it was simply a matter of how some part of her seemed to have clung to the foolish hope that, if they only made sure to seal Ganon away, then they would be able to return to the life she had known before the Great Calamity, the thought of being able to see Urbosa once more having so often felt like it was the only thing that made her able to deflect yet another attack from the Calamity during the century she had spent trapped inside the castle with Ganon. After all, when Zelda looked at the land around her, she knew that, although she might still not have grown used to it, to the towns that no longer existed and the roads that were now covered in flowers rather than dirt, the people who now lived around her seemed happy. But even then, she forced herself to continue, knowing that she would not be able to hide her thoughts forever, “I just had not imagined that this would be the way my life would be once we had defeated Ganon.”

Link raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?” he asked, and if it had been anyone but Link asking her the same question, Zelda knew that she would have interpreted it as an attack, a silent accusation that she was being selfish and putting her own wishes before that of the people of Hyrule. To tell the truth, she would most likely have assumed that it was meant that way during the first couple of months she had known Link, but by now, she knew better, knew that it really was only intended as a question.

That was at least what she tried to convince her heart of, attempting to tell it that there was no need for the quick rhythm it was beating against her ribs as she leant in even closer, resting her head on Link’s shoulder. “I think I had thought that, once we had defeated the Calamity, the worst would be over, and I would know what to do next. But, ever since we first began to travel through Hyrule, I haven’t been able to ignore the feeling of it all somehow being wrong.” she looked up at Link, trying to gauge his reaction. The little smile he sent her was enough for Zelda to muster up the courage to add. “It never feels like it is going to end—we defeated Ganon, and I must admit that, foolish as it is, part of me had thought that that was all it would take for us to return Hyrule to the way it had once been. But the more we try, the more for us to do I can see, and sometimes, I can’t help but wonder if it will ever end, if we will ever be able to succeed in our quest.” Zelda sighed, using the moment to allow herself to take a deep breath, only then noticing how she had barely paused to breathe. “I am sorry, I know that it is ridiculous—”

“It isn’t.” the fact that Link had just interrupted her, something Zelda could not recall the last time she had heard—if it had ever happened before that moment at all—was enough for the protests that her mind had already prepared to shrivel up and die instantly, allowing Link to continue without her objecting. “Really, Zelda, I think that it is perfectly understandable to have those doubts about whether or not we are doing the right thing, or if we are simply wasting our time. After all, I would lie if I told you that I have never questioned whether or not there was any hope for us to ever be able to rebuild Hyrule.”

Hearing those words, to listen to Link admit that, while Zelda would so often look at him and regard him as the one person who always seemed to have faith in fate and the path the goddess had already chosen for them, he had moments where he doubted the future just as much as she did, was almost more than Zelda could believe, and had it not been for how she was sitting right next to him, and could tell how it was indeed Link who was saying it by how his voice grew softer with each and every word, she might very well have questioned if she was not making it all up, the thought of Link sharing her doubts about the future being nothing but wishful thinking. But he was right there next to her, letting her know that she had not failed the goddess by doubting her plans. For if Link felt the same way as her, then Zelda knew that it was all right.

Still, it did not make her worries disappear, and, for what felt like it was the hundredth time, sending a quick prayer of thanks to the goddess for having allowed her to sit down to talk with Link, making both of them grow closer to one another, all those years ago, Zelda fumbled for the words to explain her question. “But how do you ignore it?” she asked. ”How are you able to acknowledge the fact that you sometimes doubt destiny like that, while still not giving up—how can you ignore those feelings while still recognising their existence?”

Zelda did not know what to think of the look Link sent her, the confusion combined with the slight hint of pity in his eyes almost being enough to make her wish that she had never asked.

Thankfully, Link soon averted his gaze, instead looking at the tree that grew across the river in front of them as he answered. “I don’t,” he said, and, had it not been for how he did not give her the chance to interrupt, his voice rising a bit as he continued, Zelda would surely have asked how he was able to look so confident all the time if he truly meant what he said about not ignoring his doubts, “I just don’t. Perhaps it was because I spent the first few months after having woken up in this world without a single memory of the life I had led before and the destiny that had been handed to me along with the Master Sword, but by the time I was aware of the part I would have to play in saving Hyrule, I already knew that trying to deny myself the right to feel doubt, fear, sadness, and anger would only make those feelings stronger until they would be enough to leave me unable to continue.”

Although she wanted to tell him that there seemed to have been some kind of misunderstanding, that the way she doubted the fate and the plan she had created while having only got a day of rest after having spent a century struggling with Ganon inside Hyrule Castle was entirely different from what Link was describing, and that what he was advising her to do would never be able to work for her, Zelda could not ignore the little, nagging feeling in her stomach that told her that he was right.

After all, had it not been the very same sense of doubt that had filled her each time her father ordered her to journey to yet another sacred site in Hyrule, sometimes rendering her unable to think of anything but how she would surely fail again and find herself forced to return home to admit to her father that she still had not felt any change, able to picture the way the disappointment would be written across his face when he would tell her to return to her chambers in vivid detail, several days in advance? Was it not the very same doubt that had left her the moment she had looked up to see the Guardian standing over them, aiming at Link, granting her the strength to run in front of him and using her own body to shield him from an attack that would never come as that was the moment she had finally been able to manifest her powers?

But while she could admit that he was right, Zelda still found herself faced with the question of what exactly she could do to combat the feelings of hopelessness that had not disappeared along with Ganon though that was what she had spent a century hoping for.

So, although a voice that sounded suspiciously like her father’s told her that she had already said too much, that a princess was supposed to be a pillar of strength for everyone else to look towards when they needed stability in their lives, she looked over at Link, relieved to see that he returned her glance. “But what can I do then?” Zelda asked, and for what felt like the first time in as long as she could remember, she let her voice tremble rather than attempt to fight it in order to appear strong. “I know you told me to allow myself to feel these things, but, right now, I just feel like I need to regain some kind of sense of being in control of my own life, of my own choices.” she did not tell him how she had felt like she needed that for far longer than only the century she had spent fighting to keep Ganon trapped within the castle, but with the way Link hesitated for a moment, studying her face, she could tell that he already knew.

Finally, Link broke the silence that had appeared between them. “I think,” he said, speaking so slowly that Zelda could almost hear how he was considering each word carefully,” that you should begin to think of yourself as your own person instead of the princess of Hyrule.” he must have been able to tell how Zelda was about to open her mouth to ask what he meant by that, or perhaps he simply realised that the piece of advice was still too vague for her, for Link was quick to add. “What I mean is that, rather than looking at yourself and seeing a princess who now has to rebuild the kingdom she was born to serve, you should think of yourself as simply Zelda, the girl who has now got the chance to be herself in a world she earned the chance to discover again.”

She was moments away from telling him how that was simply not possible that she would always have to think of Hyrule before she could allow herself to wonder what she wanted to do, but something stopped her.

Zelda was not sure what it was, if it was due to the fact that Link had reached out to take her hand, giving it a slight squeeze, if perhaps the way the rays of the sun hit the water in front of her was the reason for why she was able to stop herself before she had insisted that it would not be possible for her to do as he advised her to, but fact was that something did make her find the strength to look at him and consider his words before answering. For, although Zelda could still imagine the way her father would have responded to the idea of her—even if it was only for a moment—forgetting about the duties that came with being a princess to instead let herself act the way she wanted, to pursue her own dreams and find her own source of joy, as she sat there in the jungle with Link, unable to know what the next day would bring of dangers and adventures, she knew that her life was no longer the way it had once been when she had still lived in the castle, trying her best to earn even the smallest smile from her father.

Almost without thinking about it, she reached up to push a stray strand of hair back to its correct place behind her ears, stopping the moment she made contact with the hair. Back… before everything had changed, she had often gone to look at the paintings of her mother that had decorated the hallways of the castle. The former queen of Hyrule had had long hair, the brown tresses almost being long enough to reach her waist when she stood up, the painter having captured her as she stood next to the chair in her study. How many times had Zelda not been forced to go back to her bedchambers in the middle of the night when she had woken up after a nightmare and gone to cry in front of the picture of her mother, only to see that her father was already there, looking up at the painting with such a longing expression in his eyes, that, even though Zelda did not dare to look for longer than a moment, she could not miss the way he glanced at her mother’s face like he wanted to be able to join her in the painting?

In that moment, the hair seemed impossibly heavy, and although Zelda knew that she had not been near the river that cut through the landscape in front of her, she halfway expected for it to feel wet when she pressed her hand against her head, for surely that, her having somehow managed to jump into the water, letting it drench her hair without noticing it, would be the only explanation for why it felt like it was weighing her down, growing heavier with each passing second. But no matter how much Zelda searched for the familiar feel of water being forced to roll down the strands and drip onto the ground, the locks of hair she squeezed in her hand remained dry, the feeling of it making her heart sink to the floor as it left only one last possibility.

“Link.” her voice sounded strangely distant as she looked over at him, and from the way he cocked his head, his hand already searching for the hilt of the Master Sword, Zelda could tell that he had noticed as well, but she continued nevertheless. “Would you perhaps help me cut my hair?”

Even if she had not already been aware of just how childish the impulsive idea was, Zelda would have been sure to know the next moment, as Link gaped at her, his mouth moving without a sound coming out when he silently repeated her words. Blinking a few times, it seemed that he finally regained the ability to speak. “Cut you hair?” he echoed, shooting her a questioning look. Although Zelda tried to appear confident as she nodded, it was not enough to make the crease between Link’s brows disappear. In fact, it only became deeper as he inched closer to her, the way he shifted on the ground to put his hand on her elbow letting Zelda know how he was readying himself for any reaction as he added. “May I ask why?”

Why. That was a good question, but also the one Zelda did not have an answer for. She would have loved to tell him that it was so she would no longer have to fight to ensure that the monsters would not be able to grab the strands of hair, something she had already been mere millimetres away from experiencing a few times now, something that would feel safe to admit. After all, making sure that she would be safe while out there in the wild would be a completely ordinary worry, and Zelda knew that Link would accept it without another question.

As she thought about it, Zelda had to admit that, no matter what she would say, as long as she sent him a look to let him know that she did not want to explain herself, it would be enough to make Link stop asking her. But that was the thing—while she wanted to get the weight the hair added away from her head as quickly as possible, the temptation of finally being able to talk with someone without having to fear she would accidentally disappoint her father was almost too much for her to ignore the pull of, and after only a few seconds, Zelda found that she did not want to continue the fight for any longer. Already, she had spent the last century inside the castle, fighting to make sure that Ganon would stay in there with her—now that she was finally free, nothing would be able to make her return voluntarily to the fight of maintaining that façade.

So, with the echo of all the times her father had reminded her that, as the princess, it was her duty to give off the impression that she was always in control ringing in her ears, Zelda tried to find the words to explain the feeling that flowed through her at the thought of doing something like that, something that would finally remove her from her parents. “Because my father would have hated the idea of me cutting my hair. Because I look too much like my mother when my hair is long and I don’t want to give myself another reason to think of her every day for the rest of my life.” she shrugged, looking back up to meet Link’s gaze. “Mostly, I suppose I want to do it because I simply want to. After all, when I was the princess, I was never able to decide for myself what I wanted to wear and how I wanted my hair to look. But now… I know that we have to rebuild Hyrule, but while we are out here, there is no one to look at me and expect to see a queen, so this is my only chance to decide for myself. And right now, I want to have short hair.” Zelda let out a breath, and although she attempted to hide the way her heavy breathing was sure to show how she had not paused even once to breathe through the jumble of words, she could tell from the way Link’s gaze rested on her face for a few moments longer than what was necessary that he had noticed it.

Finally, Link nodded, the movement slow, like he was carefully planning every little pull of each muscle. “I see. You want to cut your hair because you have the chance to do so now, is that what you are saying?”

Before he had said it, Zelda would have struggled to explain the essence of why the hair was feeling like it was becoming heavier and heavier with every passing moment, but in that second, she knew that Link was right. This was a question of how she now had the freedom to do what she wanted, how she knew that no one would be able to recognise her and realise that their princess had made a decision for herself, that her father would not hear about how she had asked Link to help her cut her hair and tell her that she would not be allowed to see him again, claiming that he had abandoned his duties as a guard the moment he had helped her disobey him.

“Yes,” Zelda said with a nod, “yes, I suppose that is the reason for my decision. Will you help me?”

Link did not hesitate. “Of course,” he said, already reaching out to take her hand, “I just need you to tell me how short you want it to be, then I will do my best to make it become at least somewhat even.” he shot her a small smile, gesturing towards his own hair, half of it having been pulled back into a ponytail. “After all, I doubt you would want to have your hair look like mine, all ragged and sharp edges where I wasn’t able to pay attention.”

But although Zelda could hear the humorous tone in his voice, as she looked over at him and took in the way several wisps of hair fell in front of his hair, framing his face while most of it was still kept away from his eyes, she could not have agreed less. When she had been the princess, she had sometimes heard the maids whisper about how the guards used their swords to cut their hair, how it had become a tradition that those closest to one another would receive the honour and the sign of trust to be given the task of cutting the hair off while making sure that the blade of the sword would not be given the chance to injure the person. Then, Zelda had noted the way the maids had laughed at the idea and the thought of someone not using scissors to cut their hair, but voluntarily bringing a sword so close to their neck. Now, however, Zelda thought she could at the very least begin to understand the reasons for it.

Shaking her head, Zelda met Link’s gaze. “No. I don’t want it to be even, I want it to be like yours.”

“Like mine?” Link pulled at a strand of hair, the end of it almost reaching his shoulders. “Do you mean the same length, or do you mean—”

Zelda interrupted him. Now that she could hear how he had already halfway agreed to the idea of it, it felt like she would not be able to wait for even a moment longer to remove the weight from her head. “Yes. I trust you completely.”

The thought that, other than the Master Sword, they did not have anything that would be able to cut through her hair, at least not making a clean cut like the edge of a sword could, struck her, but, in that moment, Zelda knew that even if there would have been a safer alternative, she would not have considered it for even a moment. Out here, she was not the princess. She was a traveller and a scientist, able to examine the plants they happened to find growing on the forest floor while they made their way through the kingdom, they would stop to eat when they were hungry, and when they were tired, Link would try to teach her how to light the campfire. Zelda would not have her hair cut like a princess. Instead, she would try her best to ensure that she would get the same kind of ragged, random result she had so often seen the guards wear when they would finally be able to run a hand through their hair after a long day.

Perhaps it took a little longer for them to figure out how Zelda could wrap her cloak around her shoulders and neck to give herself the thickest layer of fabric between the blade of the sword and her neck as she possibly could achieve than what Zelda had seen the few times she had been able to catch a glimpse of the guards lifting the swords up to cut each other’s hair, but right in that moment, the fact that Link had agreed to do it, to trust her and her judgement enough to help her, meant more to Zelda than the fact that she could feel how he was taking several deep breaths as he held onto her hair with one hand before slowly bringing the Master Sword up, placing the blade against a lock of hair.

The sensation of the edge of the sword pressing against the strands before the latter finally had to give in to the sharp blade was unlike anything Zelda had ever felt before. While the process of several maids working together to ensure that her hair would still look regal once they had removed the ends was cleaner and surely safer as well, as Zelda sat there, doing her best to sit perfectly still to not give Link another thing to worry about, she could not help but think that this was how it was supposed to be, they had always been supposed to help each other cut their hair, finding the one person they trusted enough to let them do it.

After a few minutes, the sound of metal connecting with the ground told Zelda that Link had placed the sword back down. “I think that is as good as I can make it look,” he declared, letting go of her hair.

It was so much lighter than it had been before. Of course, Zelda had expected for that to be the case, she had known that, with most of her hair gone, she would both be able to move her head around more easily and to better feel how the wind passed by her, brushing against her neck. Tentatively, she lifted her hand up, letting it rest against where her hair now curved inward slightly, the lack of weight that had once pulled it down allowing it to bounce around her head as she tried to nod.

Turning around to face Link, Zelda tried to hide the nervous tone in her voice. “How does it look?”

“Beautiful.”

There was no hint of Link trying to hide the truth from her, thinking that it would be best for her not to know his opinion, and for a second, Zelda found herself unable to do anything but to look at him, at once acutely aware of just why the thought of losing him had been what had finally enabled her to reach the full extent of her powers.

Blushing slightly, Link averted his gaze, instead pointed at the river next to them. “Here, I think you should be able to see your reflection in the water.”

He was right. As Zelda followed him over to the river bank, kneeling down to lean in over the water, she saw how a girl, who at once looked nothing like her while still having her eyes, looked back up at her, the lack of the long hair around her face somehow making her look younger, her face appearing a little rounder now that the long locks of hair no longer served to elongate her face. But the changes she could as she took in the appearance of her reflection were about more than just that. As Zelda leant forward as far as she could without risking falling into the water, she could see how even the twinkle in her eyes had changed. Where she had once had times where she had tried to avoid having to face her own reflection, unable to look at how she could not mask the way the fear shone in her eyes, when Zelda looked at her reflection now, she could see the determination and courage she would once never have thought herself capable of possessing made her eyes look at once brighter and more intense.

“What do you think?” Link’s voice pulled her back to the present.

Looking over at him, Zelda could see how he was trying his best to hide his nervousness, pretending that she had not noticed the slightly flickering glance he sent towards her.

The answer came to her in an instant, being so loud in her mind that Zelda would not have been surprised if Link had been able to hear it even before she had opened her mouth to, with a smile, answer the question. “I love it”

With the way Link looked at her, the happiness apparent in every little tuck of his lips and the twinkle in his eyes, Zelda knew that she had made the right decision when she had asked him to help her.

“I am happy to hear that,” he said, his voice barely audible, before he cleared his throat to, with the blush spreading across her face letting Zelda know that he meant it, gesture towards her. “And I meant what I said—about how you are beautiful, I mean.”

Once, Zelda would have been convinced that he was only saying it to tease her. A little over a century ago, she would have been unable to continue after having heard him say it, so sure that the world should have stopped spinning to give her time to make sense of it. But in the weeks that had passed since Zelda had both been freed from the castle as well as her title, those little comments, the stolen glances, and the way they would so often happen to sit closer to one another than what was necessary, had grown more and more frequent as time passed.

And so, although she could feel how her heart sped up a little, Zelda was still able to accept the hand Link held out towards her, helping her to her feet.

Without waiting for her to answer, the way he did not let go of her hand for another second telling her how he already knew what she would have said, Link nodded towards the campfire. “Come. We should probably head back before it becomes too dark.”

As she followed him, the two of them crossing the short distance between the river and the fire, she could already feel how much lighter the entire world seemed now that the wind was able to play with her hair rather than it holding her down.

**Author's Note:**

> What do you think about Zelda's new hairstyle? I mean, I know that I love it (both the look of it as well as the possibility of us finally being able to play as Zelda it represents to me), but I would love to hear what you think :)


End file.
